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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622100">they said you were the crooked kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl'>crownedcarl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders (1983)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:28:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dally looks at him, sometimes, in a way that shakes Johnny to the core. Right now, he's looking at Johnny just like that - with a thinly veiled desperation, a flicker of hunger in the curve of his mouth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>they said you were the crooked kind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After watching this movie all of once, I was hooked. I love all the dynamics, but Johnny and Dally were a gut-punch I wasn't ready for. These two possessed me to write a spot of angst, so I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to know your thoughts on this piece, especially characterization, but all feedback is welcome. This is, as of the time of posting, strictly movie-verse, but I'm happy to report the book is currently on its way to my greedy, gay little hands. The title's from Always Gold by Radical Face, which works incredibly well for these two.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes, Johnny realizes that he's going to die alone.</p><p>A part of him has always known. You hear something enough times, eventually you start believing it, especially when it's coming from the people that are supposed to be the closest to you. Since the first time he was old enough to realize it was true, it's stuck with him. Johnny remembers what his parents kept saying, the sneer his dad had on his face when he stumbled across the threshold into Johnny's room and then darkly muttered about how nobody wanted him around.</p><p>It ain't a worry that hangs around his head all the time, not the way cigarette smoke does, but when the sun sets and Ponyboy walks away with a nod and a wave, Johnny stays cross-legged on the ground and wonders if that's life - his, anyway. Goodbyes and hellos and a dead-end road.</p><p>The boys help, mostly. Johnny knows he's closer to some of them than the others, so he doesn't mind the fact that the boys tend to branch into pairs of two or groups of three. He prefers the quiet conversations with Pony over Steve's loud mouth and Two-Bit's endless jokes, anyway, so it don't hurt him none when he's left to his thoughts, at the end of the day.</p><p>Except he wishes he could've gotten more than a minute alone with Dally, is all. He always seems to have all the right answers when Johnny's in a mood - well, maybe not, but Dally never has the wrong ones, either. It's the funniest thing about him, how he never manages to heal any wounds, but gets Johnny's mind off of them, anyway.</p><p>The first time Johnny had met Dally, he'd been nervous, jittery. It was no small thing, the way Dally had carried himself and made a casual introduction, like he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him, much less Johnny, but that day, Johnny had finally understood what it meant to have a family. He had been tossed into the deep end headfirst, running with the boys, but Johnny hasn't looked back since.</p><p>He's got a fuzzy recollection of the early days, but Johnny thinks maybe Dally had set a hand on his shoulder and made him some promise or another: <em>you're not alone, kid.</em></p><p>Nah. It probably didn't go down that way, if Johnny strains his memory - it's just a neat thought he keeps tucked away for colder nights.</p><p>The first thing Johnny had noticed about Dally, though, was his smile. He had a smile with sharp teeth, a smile you could cut diamonds on.</p><p>There's no coming back from that kind of thinking, but Johnny forces all thoughts of Dally from his head, rubbing his hands together as the wind howls around him before trailing off into a whimper, a rattle of trash cans shivering side by side as it abates. It's late, nighttime already, dark and still outside.</p><p>Nights like these, Johnny's almost content. Going home isn't an option; the yelling could be heard from way down the street, so Johnny had turned back around and made a beeline for the lot instead, where the stars above twinkle like fairy lights. Sometimes, it makes him feel less alone.</p><p>Sometimes, he realizes just how alone he really is beneath those stars, the vast darkness of the sky.</p><p>Right now, warming his hands by the fire, Johnny doesn't mind a thing. Doesn't mind that his jacket can't keep out the cold, or the fact that his belly cramps from hunger. He doesn't mind it at all.</p><p>"Gotta appreciate it," he mumbles to himself, squinting at the little flames dancing, straining to rise higher while Johnny quirks a smile and sighs "Man. Sure feel insignificant, right now."</p><p>He hums a tune to himself, toying with the idea of thumbing open his battered pack of smokes, then decides against it. There's two, maybe three rattling around in the pack. No sense in wasting them now, before he's got good reason to treat himself to the comfort.</p><p>He glances up at a passing car, its headlights illuminating the lot briefly before it takes a left and disappears, leaving Johnny on his lonesome, shivering in the cold.</p><p>He's not expecting company, other than maybe a visit from the stray cat that hisses when Johnny so much as breathes in its direction, but after a while, he can hear footsteps approaching. If it's a Soc come to give him hell, Johnny's not in a state to do anything about it.</p><p>He does breathe easier, though, once he hears the shouted "Hey, Johnnycake!" that comes from the treeline.</p><p>"Dally," Johnny greets him, scooting over to make room by the little fire he's trying to poke back to life, "Ain't you gone home yet?"</p><p>Their shoulders bump together, jostling Johnny on his perch when Dally knocks their knees together, slinging an arm companionably around Johnny's shoulders while a grin blooms on his lips.</p><p>Dally looks awfully carefree, Johnny thinks. He's always been jealous of it.</p><p>"Eh, home can wait," Dally scoffs, kicking at a bit of loose gravel, "I saw you sittin' here and figured I'd keep you company."</p><p>"Aw, Dally," Johnny sighs, reddening all over, "You didn't have to do that. I'm alright, promise-" but Dally cuts him off with a firm shake of his head, winking at Johnny like the two of them are in on some joke the rest of the world can't figure out.</p><p>"Want to," he enunciates, "Besides, I got a little something for us to share, if you're up to it."</p><p>Johnny shrugs, waiting for the big reveal. He's betting it's a flask, but Dally triumphantly pulls a rolled-up cigarette from his jacket pocket, wiggling it in his fingers while Johnny slowly makes the connection, rolling his eyes.</p><p>"I don't smoke pot," Johnny protests.</p><p>"It's about time you tried," Dally counters, but there's nothing mean about it. He'll leave it alone if Johnny really wants him to, but there's always been something about Dally that makes Johnny want to impress him, a hero worship that's taken up residence in his chest and sprouted roots over time.</p><p>"Alright," Johnny relents, then amends "But just a little, alright? I ain't going home tonight. Can't be out here, like that."</p><p>"Whatever you want," Dally laughs and the damnedest thing is that he says it like he means it. </p><p>Johnny aims his smile at the ground, shy and small, the way the rest of him has always been. It don't feel so bad, being covered in Dally's shadow. It almost feels a little like a hug, if Johnny let himself think that way, but some things are meant to stay buried.</p><p>He clears his throat, ducking his chin to his chest, listening to Dally flick his lighter on and off before bringing the flame to the end of the joint, inhaling loud and satisfied while Johnny tries not to think about the fact that he's probably making a mistake, here. Dally coughs, then beats a fist against his chest, muttering something about how he hasn't done this in months, shooting Johnny a look that's more amused than it is daring.</p><p>"Your turn, now. Just like a regular smoke, man."</p><p>"You're a big, fat liar," Johnny mutters, watching the twitch of Dally's mouth, knowing he's repressing coughs, "Alright, hand it here."</p><p>Johnny's no maudlin drunk, so he figures he won't get down in the dumps from a few puffs. It'll be fine, he tells himself, despite the fact that the smell is making him a little queasy. "Nut up or shut up, right?" he mumbles, not daring to look at Dally - not daring to look anywhere, in fact, as he squeezes his eyes shut, places the damp end of the joint to his mouth and inhales.</p><p>It feels like fire sparks in his throat, like he's gone and swallowed hot coals. Johnny coughs, then wheezes, his eyes watering to the point of overflow.</p><p>Dally, the bastard, laughs out loud. He places his palm flat on Johnny's back to rub gentle circles, though, so Johnny forgives him pretty quickly once he's been able to catch his breath, hastily passing the joint back over to Dally with a glare that he can't quite keep the steel in.</p><p>"That was awful," Johnny states, shaking his head vehemently, "Never again, Dally, you prick."</p><p>"Sorry," Dally offers, "It gets better, promise."</p><p>"Nah, I ain't falling for that," Johnny laughs, "You got me once already."</p><p>"Hey, come on," Dally insists, turning sideways, one knee pushing against Johnny's thigh, "Let me try it a different way, 'kay? You hate it, it's done. Swear."</p><p>Johnny finds himself nodding, despite his better judgement. Before Dally gets to it, though, he gives Johnny a sidelong look and taps a finger against Johnny's forehead, drawing a circle. He shifts, making himself comfortable, taking a drag off the joint.</p><p>Dally's long legs cross at the ankle. He flicks Johnny's ear, then laughs when Johnny yowls in displeasure. "Penny for your thoughts."</p><p>"You ain't got a penny."</p><p>"Smartass," Dally grins, inhaling deeply, lips wet around the joint. "Wanna tell me what you got going on in that head'o yours?"</p><p>Plenty, Johnny could say, but there's a funny simplicity to his head, lately. Nothing really makes it past the uneasy feeling he's got brewing, the suspicion that things won't ever get better - that they could only get worse.</p><p>Johnny's no scholar, but he used to sit at the back of the school library, during recess, losing himself in worlds that seemed kinder than the one he was born into. Now and then, he thinks about Peter Pan and his Lost Boys, running free without parents around and Johnny's heart had done a funny little flip in his chest at the thought. No parents, he had thought, would have made life a whole lot easier.</p><p>Maybe it's stupid, but when Dally came around, Johnny used to see a lot of similarities there.</p><p>But Dally's no Peter Pan and Johnny's no Lost Boy. He's just lost.</p><p>"Nothing," he deflects, then 'fesses up when Dally rolls his eyes. "Nah, it's just...kind of wish I had a library card, man. Wanna read Peter Pan, or something. Got nothing to do out here."</p><p>Dally nods, like he understands everything Johnny's not saying.</p><p>"Don't you gotta be dead to be one of 'em boys? The wild ones?" Dally asks, like he's been mulling the question over in his head. "Raw deal."</p><p>"Sure, maybe," Johnny agrees, remembering being told about symbolism, about how children who don't age must've been kids who died young. He finds himself shrugging one shoulder, bare skin brushing against denim. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust with the heel of his worn shoes. "Guess that's a pipe dream, huh?"</p><p>"Don't talk like that," Dally scolds, more heat in his voice than Johnny's heard before, like he's gone and royally pissed off the only person in the world who's always looked out for him. "Here, have some. It'll calm those nerves."</p><p>"I don't got nerves," Johnny protests, then grimaces, accepting the joint before promptly fumbling it between his fingers. "Ah, sorry, Dally."</p><p>It's dead, now, smoldering ashes without a lit cherry. Dally just chuckles and takes it back, then sparks it back to life, the paper rolled messy but compact, Dally's eyes glinting in the lighter's flicker of fire. He keeps a steady gaze on Johnny, kind of thoughtful but serious, a little like he's about to do something stupid.</p><p>Maybe Johnny's making things up again in his head, the way his momma always tells him off for doing. <em>They ain't your friends, nobody cares about you - don't you go daydreamin' about ever making it!</em></p><p>"Wanna let me try the other way?" Dally offers, grinning slightly.</p><p>Johnny has already agreed, but he nods again, for good measure, frowning when Dally says "Close your eyes, Johnnycake," in a tone that's rough and low, completely new to Johnny's ears, but he closes his eyes. He can trust Dally. He always has.</p><p>Johnny can hear Dally take a drag, all intense and slow. He can hear a slow shuffle, then feel a hand on his knee. His stomach flutters uncomfortably.</p><p>Dally's mouth comes down on Johnny's in an easy, open-mouthed press. The shock of it makes Johnny gasp, inhaling sharply, smoke traveling down his throat and into his lungs like river water going downhill; fast, with a purpose.</p><p>He coughs less, this time around. Dally pulls away before Johnny can go and hack in his face, leisurely smoking while Johnny recovers from the headrush and the surprise.</p><p>Those nerves everyone always jokes about him having hit him like a freight train. Dally raises an eyebrow and asks "Better?" like there are any good answers, because Johnny can't wrap his head around what Dally just did, how brazenly he did it.</p><p>Dally likes girls. Johnny clears his throat a few times over before he manages to husk out "Y-yeah, it was better. Thanks."</p><p>Just like that, Dally turns the awkward silence back to something familiar. "Anyhow, Johnny," he says, "You ever think about leaving this place?"</p><p>"What, Tulsa?"</p><p>"Oklahoma," Dally clarifies, rolling his lower lip between his teeth.</p><p>"No, man, 's just...there's things I ain't never gonna do, 'cause they're not meant for a kid like me."</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"Like...traveling far away. Getting hitched, finding a good job. It just ain't the way it goes."</p><p>"Well, what do kids like you get to do, then?"</p><p>"This, I guess. Sittin' around. Not going nowhere."</p><p>Dally scoots closer, denim brushing against denim in a whisper. His breath is smoky when he yanks Johnny closer with an arm around his shoulders, lips touching Johnny's ear. "You ever been kissed before, Johnnycake?"</p><p>His heart stutters to a stop, like a faulty faucet abruptly sputtering off. "I mean, sure," Johnny lies, his face heating up, "What's it to you?"</p><p>"Well, you ever been kissed <em>properly?"</em></p><p>A thumb swipes at his jaw, clumsy but intent. Dally's giving him these moon eyes, dark and playful, never straying once from Johnny's nervous mouth, the lower lip he gnaws raw.</p><p>"Nah," he finally admits, forcing a laugh, coughing when Dally takes a long, loud drag of the joint and then exhales it right in Johnny's face. "Nah, man."</p><p>Dally cups his cheek, all gentle-like. Johnny still flinches, though, when Dally's thumb presses against a bruise that's slowly healing. It makes Dally pause, like he's about to ask one of those uncomfortable questions Johnny would rather skip past, but Dally bites his tongue, then his lip, rolling it between his teeth. It's no use pretending Dally won't go there, in the end. When he gets something in his head, he's like a particularly tenacious dog with a bone.</p><p>"You wanna know what it's like?"</p><p>Something clicks, then. Johnny's always been a little slow to pick up on those kind of things, but Dally spells it out for him, eyes a little red from the smoke, lips twitching into a smile that's both boyish and wary. It's the way Dally's cheeks don't quite dimple all the way that tells Johnny he might be nervous, too.</p><p>"What, with - with you?"</p><p>Dally ain't queer, that much Johnny knows. He'd give that opinion under oath, too, but Dally pins him with his gaze and says, quietly, "What's the matter with me, huh?" like it's a joke, but when he shuffles closer, Johnny's struck by the fact that Dally's offering something that Johnny might never get again.</p><p>Hell. Johnny loves Dally. He's sure Dally won't beat him for accepting. He might make fun, might call Johnny names, but Dally would never hurt him.</p><p>Johnny chokes out a quiet, incensed "God damn it, Dally," before asking, sharply, without any thought behind it, "You won't tell, will you?"</p><p>Just like that, his mind's made up. There's no going back now. Johnny cuts his eyes from Dally's face to the ground, anxiety eating away at his lungs.</p><p>It ain't easy, having the thing you want so badly right in front of you, like a deal out of a TV show, the chance to win something priceless - <em>the opportunity of the century, </em>Johnny thinks, <em>and </em><em>only a fool would pass it up.</em></p><p>He doesn't understand why Dally's offering. Except...</p><p>Dally looks at him, sometimes, in a way that shakes Johnny to the core. Right now, he's looking at Johnny just like that - with a thinly veiled desperation, a flicker of hunger in the curve of his mouth.</p><p>Johnny didn't know what that meant, before. He knows, now, even when the reality of it seems like something out of a long-forgotten dream, where the details are hazy.</p><p>"Not a word," Dally whispers, his hand relaxing against Johnny's jaw. The joint has fizzled out, once again. It lands in the dirt without Dally so much as glancing at it. "Let me show you how."</p><p>Johnny exhales deeply, then takes a leap of faith. He shifts forward, his chin landing in Dally's cupped palm, Johnny's fingers curling in the front of Dally's jacket, twisting until he gets a good grip. It makes his fingers feel stiff, but Johnny is sure that if he doesn't hold on, this'll all turn out to be a dream that can be stripped away at any moment and after a beat, Johnny squeezes his eyes shut, waiting breathlessly for the moment of truth.</p><p>Dally's lips are cold and soft. Johnny stutters out a breath, then holds another, damn near to the point of passing out, because Dally tilts his head and deepens the angle, his mouth firm against Johnny's, fingers carding through Johnny's hair like it's meant to be an encouragement. It sparks liquid heat in Johnny's stomach, the kind that pulses with nervous desire, until Johnny's forced to pant against Dally's mouth, embarrassed and hopelessly wanting.</p><p>"Easy," Dally breathes, "Let me take the lead," and Johnny can't turn that offer down. Not in this lifetime and not in the next, not when Dally kisses him like he's got nothing to prove, like he plain just wants to.</p><p>Johnny's shoulders relax, after a while. His body shivers, both from the cold and from the bold hand Dally places on his thigh, skirting the inside of it, the way Johnny's seen him do it to girls. Between one breath and the next, Dally makes a soft sound into the kiss, muted, like there's a hitch in his breath he can't control. Johnny finds himself sighing, looping one arm around Dally's neck, his lips parting hesitantly.</p><p>He imagined Dally would be a lot more forceful than this. Dally goes nice and slow, gentle, until Johnny's the one pushing for more, breathing hard and heavy into Dally's mouth.</p><p>"Just like that," he can hear Dally say, a hair's breadth away from Johnny's lips, "That's perfect," and Johnny closes the gap again, realizing, suddenly, that he finally understands all the fuss, why girls would go starstruck after dates. He's feeling pretty starstruck himself, briefly mortified when Dally's tongue teases at the seam of his lips and Johnny ends up moaning, low and wounded.</p><p>Seems Dally likes that, though, 'cause he pulls back with pink lips and pinker cheeks, his eyes sparkling. "Come here," he urges, tugging Johnny's collar out of the way with deliberate care, like he knows not to spook Johnny, now, "Let me, just-"</p><p>Johnny tilts his head back and looks at the stars, toes curling in the confines of his battered shoes, gasping a thready sound from deep in his throat when Dally's mouth lands on his neck, teeth scraping across the place where Johnny's pulse is galloping like there's five seconds left in the race and he's coming in last. "Oh, Dally-"</p><p>It's not a protest. It's far from it. Johnny's relieved when Dally interprets it for what it is, a sure sign to go on, nipping at the tender skin of Johnny's neck as a hand tentatively slips up beneath Johnny's shirt.</p><p>He doesn't realize how attuned he's been to Dally's hands until Dally laughs and tells him "You can touch me, too. If you want," like there's ever been any question about it, especially now. But that's not something Johnny thinks they'll talk about, really, so he buries that runaway thought and hooks a finger in Dally's belt loop, then dips a hand inside, feeling the jut of hipbone against his flat palm.</p><p>Dally freezes, then melts, hips rolling in a needy grind. "Careful, Johnny," he groans, not elaborating, but he mouths at Johnny's skin with a purpose, now, until the skin aches and Johnny understands that Dally's giving him a hickey, of all things.</p><p>Briefly, panic stirs in his chest. What'll he say if someone asks?</p><p>Before long, Johnny decides to leave that problem for tomorrow. It's hard to really worry when Dally's making thin noises against his skin, like Johnny's doing something Dally can't quite bear to take.</p><p>The scary thing is, Johnny doesn't want to stop. He wants to reach for Dally's belt and unbuckle it. He wants to push Dally's jeans down his hips and then get a good, long look at the pale expanse of Dally's belly before putting his mouth right there, just to see what Dally will do if he does. Johnny wants to twine them together until there's no space left between their bodies.</p><p>He wants it so badly it shocks him, forces a labored whimper from his throat, makes Dally look at him funny when he comes back up for air. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"</p><p>"No," Johnny rushes to assure him, "God, Dally, no. I liked it."</p><p>He touches two fingers to the skin Dally's made tender and raw, hissing, a small, exasperated smile curving Johnny's mouth. For a moment, he wants to laugh, joke to Dally about how he sure is territorial, but in that moment, Dally's expression shutters, like someone's pulled down the blinds and turned all of the lights off.</p><p>Johnny is lost for words when Dally pulls away, absently batting Johnny's hand free of his jeans, picking the joint up and carefully wiping it free of dirt on his jacket pocket.</p><p>Dally pulls away like nothing has happened, because nothing does, in this town. Nothing happens. Things stay the same. The two of them are no different, apparently, despite the futile hope Johnny's clinging to like a life raft.</p><p>A part of Johnny wants to fight it. The rest of him is glad to wipe the slate clean, especially when Dally puts a safe distance back between them, like he knows Johnny's thinking about going back for seconds. It strikes him how dangerous this is, how stupid he's been - kissing Dally right out in the open, like there aren't people happy to beat the tar out of them if they knew.</p><p>Stupid, he thinks to himself, to imagine a world where something goes right. Just this once.</p><p>Nothing happened here, Johnny thinks, needing to convince himself of it, because then it won't be as hard to look at Dally tomorrow and know that this didn't mean a thing. It could just have been a nice dream, maybe, 'cause Johnny could swear that Dally's looking at him like the past ten minutes have been nothing but a drop in the ocean, to him.</p><p>There's nothing awkward about the way Dally ruffles Johnny's hair, and it reinforces the idea that maybe Johnny went and hallucinated the entire damn thing, but then there's the bruise on his throat. The ache of it, like the skin's been pulled too tight, but Dally's eyes don't flicker down to the dark of it when he rises to his feet and snaps Johnny a salute, then hollers "You be careful, Johnnycake," before turning on his heel to start the walk home. "Don't get yourself into trouble, now."</p><p>Johnny hunches over the dying remains of the fire, dropping his face into his hands, regret ballooning in his throat. Lower, in his belly, desire makes a bid to take up all the space in his gut and Johnny shakes his head furiously, hissing a quiet, quivering <em>"Fuck," </em>through his teeth.</p><hr/><p>There's a time after that, sitting at the drive in, where Johnny's world shatters that one last bit.</p><p>Dally's pestering the girls up front, his grin fixed in place. Afterwards, he catches Johnny on the way out, looping their arms together and pushing Johnny up against the chain-link fence like it ain't nothing, like he's had practice at doing it.</p><p>"Johnny," Dally laughs, his forehead damp when it bumps against Johnny's. It makes him realize that Dally's definitely on the wrong side of drunk, hot and clammy and looking for trouble, but there's nothing Johnny can do about that right now other than squirm in Dally's tight embrace.</p><p>"Man, those chicks were all over you...talked non-stop about that pretty face of yours-"</p><p>"It's nothing," Johnny scoffs, leisurely tracing the buttons of Dally's jacket, for lack of something to do with his hands. "I'm not going there, don'tcha worry."</p><p>Dally pulls back, his lips pursed. "You should," he tells Johnny, suddenly serious. "Johnny, get yourself a girl."</p><p>"Why should I?"</p><p>He's being a brat and he knows it, but Dally just pisses him off so badly, sometimes, when he won't leave well enough alone. One minute, he's hot. Seconds later, he's colder than ice. Johnny can feel an eruption of anger building in his throat, suddenly, before it bursts out in a shout.</p><p>"Don't tell me how to live my life, man. Who are you, huh?"</p><p>It shocks the breath from him when Dally slams his open palm against the fence, rattling it noisily, both of them freezing up in sync. Dally pulls back like he's been burned, unable to look Johnny in the eyes - it figures, 'cause Johnny just about flinched hard enough to be seen from a mile away, anticipation coiling in his stomach alongside a deep-seated dread.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Dally breathes, beginning to stalk erratically in a circle, running his hands through his hair all the while. He stops, then points a finger at Johnny. As he comes closer on heavy feet, the finger ends up settling beneath Johnny's chin, tilting it up, forcing Johnny to look right at him.</p><p>He closes his eyes, knowing that something terrible is about to happen, and then Dally kisses Johnny's forehead like it's meant to be an apology.</p><p>"John," Dally says, a name he's never used before, another first that Johnny never thought would happen, "You gotta find yourself a girl. Ain't no life, this...this thing we want. So, you get a girl. Get two, for all I care. But you gotta stop looking at me that way."</p><p>"You started it," Johnny whispers, then croaks a heated "It's your fault. You're the only-"</p><p>He bites his tongue, sharply. Johnny's no good at lying. Dally's the only boy he's ever touched that way, but Johnny's sixteen. He's looked. He's imagined, fantasized and then knelt down, agonized, sobbing into his open palms. It's different with Dally, though. When Johnny imagined him, he always imagined more than just Dally's mouth or his hands.</p><p>Maybe that's why his daddy's always hated him. Maybe that's the point of his unrelenting fists. Maybe he's been trying to beat it out of Johnny, ever since the suspicion and disgust took a hold of him.</p><p>Dally won't lay a hand on him like that, but the anxiety won't lift off of Johnny's shoulders just yet.</p><p>"Why'd you have to do it, man?" Johnny whispers, jerking Dally down by the collar of his jacket, shaking him when Dally just moves with Johnny like he's lost all the will to fight. It feels like yelling at a puppet or begging for closure from a corpse, like Dally won't ever be able to give him the answers he wants. "I didn't ask you to do that. You, you're the one-"</p><p>"'cause I'm bad," Dally answers, pulling the words from thin air, halting Johnny in his rage. "I don't know when to quit, Johnny, I'm sorry. But I know better, now. I'll leave you alone, I promise."</p><p>"Great," Johnny chuckles, low and shaky, "Right, 'cause that's gonna solve everything. Make it like it never happened. How do you do that, man? How do you just let that go?"</p><p>Dally doesn't have all the answers. Johnny knows as much, but he still stares at Dally's eyes and waits for some kind of revelation, some kind of solution that'll fix the mess he's gone and made of them, but Dally just cups Johnny's cheek and shakes his head, like he's used up all his energy already.</p><p>"I'm greedy," Dally mutters, like he needs to say it to himself more than to Johnny, but then Dally's backing up a step, rocking back on his heels, careful to keep his eyes downcast, "I don't wanna lose you, Johnnycake. Listen. You'll go home-"</p><p>Both of them wince in unison.</p><p>"-you'll get a good night's sleep, then things are going to be the way they've always been, alright? 'cause I got your back. You know I do, you gotta know that."</p><p>Johnny never doubted it, in all honesty. It just feels a lot like Dally presented him with all the beauty the world had to offer on a silver platter, then snatched it away. Something burns behind Johnny's eyes, but he stifles the ugly noise that's fighting for freedom in his throat and swallows his anger, 'cause having Dally as a friend is better than not having him at all.</p><p>"Sure," Johnny agrees, his voice barely a whisper. He says it just to get Dally to leave and leave him alone, whichever comes first, because Johnny can't stand to look at him anymore. "Okay, Dallas. Alright. It's - it's all good, man. You head on home, now."</p><p>He wonders how well Dally sees through the lie, if he's feeling the same devastation that's painting Johnny's features fragile and trembling, but Dally just nods, like he's happy to accept Johnny's capitulation. Before he really pulls away and ends this, once and for all, Dally hesitates.</p><p>When Dally leans in, their lips almost brushing, Johnny almost tells him that it would be kinder to just take a knife to his lips, instead. It would hurt a lot less, in any case, than Dally's breath wafting against Johnny's mouth.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Dally repeats, his voice strained. "I really am. Look, I'll...I'll see you tomorrow."</p><p>"Okay," Johnny whispers, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself, wrenching free of Dally's arms, blinking hard at the ground when it goes blurry. "See you around."</p><p>Even then, sick to his stomach, Johnny can't bring himself to hate Dallas Winston. It ain't true what people say, he thinks to himself. There's no fine line, but instead an ocean, between love and hate.</p><hr/><p>Two weeks later, Dally is back with Sylvia.</p><p>Johnny pockets his smokes and swallows his resentment. It isn't long after that when Dally gets himself cuffed and shoved into the back of a police car, which Johnny only hears about second-hand, listening to Steve and Soda discuss it over burgers and fries. Pony makes a joke, right about then, about how things will probably calm down with Dally away for a while.</p><p>Johnny clears his throat, then says, quietly, knowing he'll likely go unheard over the bickering, "I don't know, man. I sure know I'll miss him."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! As my first foray into this fandom, I'd deeply appreciate any thoughts and comments you have on this fic. ✿</p></blockquote></div></div>
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